Anna rolled her wheelchair to the open doorway and squinted at the bright sidewalk. Behind her, the kitchen was quiet. Her mother had stepped inside for just a moment. Out on the pavement, a small kid hit the ground hard and started to cry. Anna's hands warmed at her sides. She wanted to help. She had always wanted to help. This was the thing she had been waiting for — a chance to prove a kid could be a hero too. Across the street, a pink karaoke bar glowed with neon flamingos. Her mother had ducked inside to grab a forgotten bag. Anna pushed her wheels forward before the door could swing shut behind her. The kid lay beside a bright cluster of orange and yellow marigolds growing through a crack in the pavement. A heavy blue book had skidded from their hands, its gold cross gleaming in the sun. Anna rolled close and cooled her warm fingers against her lap. "I'm staying," she said softly. "You're okay." The kid sniffled and nodded. Anna picked up the book and set it gently in their hands. Then footsteps pounded behind her. Her mother's shadow fell across the marigolds. "Anna, wait—" But Anna did not turn. She kept her hand on the crying kid's shoulder. For the first time, she had gotten there first.